They buried the babies first. As each small body was lowered into the ground, they wept.

The mission to evacuate women and children had failed. Their unit had arrived too late and the slaying was over.

Not a living soul remained. Every woman and every child had been a victim of this atrocity.

The men had long gone. Taking what was of use to them, they had fled into the night, leaving only the stench of death behind and the realisation for the soldiers of the horror they had failed to prevent.

As they gripped the ruby encrusted handles of the blades, signs of such opulence, and pulled them from the bodies of the slaughtered innocents, each of them silently wondered to himself what kind of men could murder their own wives and children.